The Difference Between Tears and Sea Salt
by gh0sty
Summary: (There is none.) The tale of a rainy day, and why Dad will not come home. ringou / matsuokacest if you want it to be!


When he dies, it is one of those summer nights where it is humid, rainy, and the power playfully flickers off again, on again at secret intervals.

It's fun though, isn't it? It's fun running around with flashlights, sneaking up on Gou and making scary faces that frighten and delight her. It's fun playing hide and seek, and it's fun spinning around in circles, and it's fun chasing his little sister around the house like a shark, catching and pulling on her long, stringy hair that's the color of a ripe strawberry. Sometimes he pulls too hard and it hurts her, but he always apologizes, and she doesn't seem to mind.

And then Mom pokes her head in, giving both him and her an exhausted look as she says kindly, "Come on, now. I made milk and honey."

Rin and Gou turn to each other, eyes wide as planets and Gou yells in her little voice, "Race you!" And they take off, sprinting between Mom's legs like puppies and making a beeline for the kitchen.

Rin wins. Gou pouts, but he catches her from under her arms and picks her up — she kicks and squirms, protesting — but he just smirks and places her in a wooden chair at the table, patting her on the head. She stops pouting.

Rin climbs into his own chair, and Mom finally makes it out of the hall, wiping the sweat on her brow on her apron. And Mom mentions how it's nice having the two of them so cute and quiet at the dining room table (a rare occassion)! Mom bends over Gou, showing her how to properly stir her spoon in the big, steamy green mug, and then they all hear the chirpy sounds of Mom's ringtone, coming from her cell phone — the power's still off, so the house phone is dead. Thankfully, they had gas, so Mom could make the hot milk, though!

"Aha! Who might that be?" Mom asks playfully.

"DADDY!" Gou screams, nearly falling out of her chair.

Mom laughs and leaves them at the table, hurrying to the master bedroom where her phone is.

They drink their milk with excitement. Lightning strikes hard outside, rattling the whole house and making the creaky windows whisper, but hot milk and honey is the best cure for anything and everything. Rin's heart is light, and Gou is kicking her feet under the table, and they slurp their tea in a quiet competition to see who finishes first. He wonders when Dad is getting back. He's probably on his way if he's calling Mom, so the boat landed safely, and they'd see him within the hour if everything went swimmingly. He hadn't seen Dad in ages, it felt like, and he had promised him they were gonna go check out the new gym with the indoor swimming pool after he got back and had a few days off.

"Nii-chan," Gou cuts into his blissful thoughts with a glamorous milk mustache. Her vibrant hair is falling into her face, and she pushes it out of her eyes with a clumsy hand. "Can I go swimmin' with you and Daddy?"

Rin sticks his nose in the air, grinning. "Nope! It's just me and Dad! Maybe we'll take you later."

"Nii-chaaaaaan," she whines. "That's not faaiiir…"

"Don't worry, Gou-chan. We'll do stuff later, promise. You believe nii-chan, right?"

"I guess." It was a grumble.

The alchemy of the sweet milk was beginning to work its magic; after sipping on the warm mugs for ten minutes, they finally reached the bottoms (though Gou couldn't quite finish hers, and Rin oh-so reluctantly finished it off). Gou was drooling. Her head lolled adorably, and she seemed to be sagging in her chair. Rin's eyelids were drooping, too, but he pushed his chair out, teetering as he got off, and went to her.

"C'mon, Gou-chan," he muttered sleepily. "Bed."

"Nnoo," she protested in a slur, though he was already scooping her out of her chair like she was a ragdoll. But tired arms found his shoulders and she felt her hands grasp tight to his shirt, and her babyish cheek press on his chest. She'd be asleep before he even made it down the hall.

Rin adjusted her in his arms though, grunting "Heavy…" as he did, before dutifully heading for her bedroom. Poor Gou; she'd be asleep when Dad got back. But Rin couldn't help but be happy, excited at the thought of her freaking out in the morning when she realized Daddy was home.

With his foot, he kicked open her door, and stepped into her pale, wood-paneled room. Her curtain hadn't been untied yet, and immediately the room filled with a stark, blinding light as lightning struck stupidly close to the house. Rin stiffened, startled, put-off by the renewed bulletfire sound of rain on the window. Gou stirred slightly in his arms, and it brought him back to reality — she was heaved as carefully as possible into her bed, and she relaxed instantly into her pile of pillow and stuffed animals. He had to pry out her blanket from under her before pulling it over her, patting down the puffed pockets.

Still barely conscious, Gou reached out, hazily searching out the blanket, which she bundled up against her face accordingly.

Rin smiled. He wanted to get back to Mom as quickly as possible to see what Dad had said — she'd been on the phone a while, actually — but, he was a big brother, and he planted himself on Gou in a momentary hug.

"Night night," he said.

"Nii-channigh," she said.

He undid the curtain, shielding her sleep from the blustering weather outside. And she was out like a light.

The walk back down the hall was different. The rain was still coming down like God had forgotten to turn off the faucet, and even the house seemed a little soggier. He was sure they wouldn't flood or anything like that though.

It was then, as he stepped back into the dining room, he saw that Mom was still not out from his parent's bedroom. And a peculiar sound reached his ears. He squinted at first, turning around, looking around the ceiling and kitchen and family room from where he stood, but couldn't find any source of the noise. It sounded like a hurt dog. Was there one outside? Rin's heart nearly stopped in his chest at the thought of a poor dog out in this storm, and he ran to the front windows, eyes searching the roads. The streetlights weren't on, and it was dark as the hall closet, but lightning flickered a few times and he was sure there was no living thing in sight. Everyone was safe inside.

But then where was the noise?

"I'll get Mom," he said to himself, concerned. He trotted briskly into the family room, rounding the corner and heading towards the open bedroom door.

He walked into the room. Mom was on the floor. She was curled up like a baby, like Gou when she was pink and wailing and newborn — back when he detested and adored his baby sister, because now he just liked her, even if she was annoying sometimes — and her hands were clutching at her hair, and her shoulders were heaving like waves. Rin saw a little light from beside her — her cell phone, opened and abandoned on the carpet next to her, displaying the background that was the family picture they took on vacation during Golden Week. They had visited Australia, and Rin totally, totally loved it.

But, more importantly than all of this, Mom was making sounds like a hurt dog. Her breath came to her in huge, shallow gasps, like the air could barely pass through her throat. And she made ugly, frightening sounds, and it dumbly dawned on the boy that his mother was crying.

Rin stood there, awkward and horrified and feeling more unsafe than he had ever felt. Tears came into his eyes rapidly, and he felt a frown take over his face, and he squeaked out, "M-Mommy?"

She either didn't hear him, or was ignoring him. Feeling more and more wired, Rin sniffled and moved closer to her, reaching out with a shaky hand to touch her shoulder. Again, said, "Momma?"

She heard him this time. He was glad the room was dark so he couldn't see how mangled and puffy and reddened her face was, how bloodshot her eyes were, the stained trails of tears on her soft cheeks and snot smeared across her chin. Mom said something, he thought, though it was incomprehensible to him, but the next thing he knew, she had swept him into her arms and she gave him the scariest and tightest hug he'd ever known.

He was crying freely now, hiccuping and trembling, as he asked, "Momma? Wh-what's wrong?"

Mom's forehead rested pitifully on his shoulder, and her arms crushed him, and she made some sound that was like an apology. She cried harder. It took some time, but eventually, brokenly, he deciphered words. Typhoon. Boats. Sinking. Dad. Sorry. Sorry. I love you. Sorry.

Rin cried more softly than his mother. His sobs came in silent gasps, completely inaudible as his stomach tried to turn itself inside out. His mind both cascades with a million nauseatingly vivid images and thoughts and blanks into something darker and emptier than nothingness. He sobs for so long that his eyes sting like there's lemon juice in them, and his head swells and hurts.

Gou, to her credit, slept peacefully. Blissfully unaware of everything. The thought of Gou finding out made him buckle. Everything grew worse and worse, duller and more excruciating.

He doesn't remember when he fell asleep. He remembered the scent of salt and how it mixed in so sadly with his mom's comforting smell that he knew and loved more than anything. But in the morning, he wakes up in his mom's arms, under the comforter, and the scent is still there, washing over him.

The morning light is grey. There's only a light rain, now, and he dizzily snuggles closer to his mom's breast, mushing his face into her collarbone's skin soothingly. It's enough to rouse her, and her beautiful hands, resting so nicely on his back, move, and with one hand she smooths down his hair, stroking it tenderly.

Rin realizes that his eyes are way stickier than they've ever been when he's woken up. They burn, in fact. And he feels sore, even on the inside. His ears perk to the sound of small feet on the wooden floors outside the bedroom, and as Mom starts sniffling, little Gou appears in the doorway, rubbing her eyes and yawning and clutching the biggest pink seahorse plush she owned.

"Nii-chan, why're you in Mommy and Daddy's room…?" Her voice was croaky with sleep, and she looked wobbly where she stood.

Dad.

Rin is sitting up, and he can't bring himself to answer her. Mom was fully awake and sitting as well, and there are fresh tears in her swollen, reddened eyes, and Mom was incredible and brave, because she smiled weakly at Gou and breathed shakily, "C-come here, baby."

Rin felt his body trembling uncontrollably and he could not stop it. Tears wouldn't come again; they felt lodged in his chest like he'd swallowed a pill that didn't go down. Gou stumbled over and crawled onto the bed with difficulty, and when she did, Rin could only watch, feeling outside of his own body, as she sleepily fell into Mom's outstretched arms. She curled up contentedly against their mother, and Rin, barely functioning, numbly moved into Mom's arms, too.

"Gou-chan," she said, very softly. "Th-there was a very big storm last night, r… remember?"

"Mmm…"

Mom pulled him closer, and she kissed the top of his head. He felt like a rock. One hand held him in a hug, and the other one pet Gou's head.

"D… Daddy's boat broke in the storm, a-and now Daddy can't come home."

Rin watches as Gou's eyes, so bright and honey-colored, open slowly, then go wider and wider, so wide until he's sure she's going to rip her eyelids. And when they won't go any wider and he sees all the whites of her eyes, he sees them turn glassy and dull with tears.

Gou asks, genuine and quiet, "What?"

And Mom, brave and strong, could not help the tears anymore. And Rin could not move still; he only smelled Mom, Gou, and salt.

And Dad did not come home.


End file.
